The Week
by sakuraxkisu
Summary: Even in the skyrocketing highs and oceandrowning lows of their lives, she was always by his side. Always—in life.... “Don’t over exert yourself.” ....and in death....


**The Week**

**Summary**: Even in the sky-rocketing highs and ocean-drowning lows of their lives, she was always by his side. Always—in life… "Don't over exert yourself." …and in death….  
**Pairing**: Neji x Tenten  
**Note**: My first shot at NejiTen. Don't be surprised if it's OOC(ish).

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**i.** Monday  
_locked in a cage_

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The sky is a dreary pale grey, you observe—the clouds, a lighter hue of grey, are moving at a painfully slow pace, careless and lazily. Almost as though they moved slowly and steadily on purpose. 

(_an image of Shikamaru appears in your mind for a fleeting moment, and the irony strikes you_)

Another dull day, you muse to yourself. The discomfort of your upright posture tickles your nerves and heightens the gradual-rising stress.

(_and for this reason, you hate your name and your team_)

But, things weren't always that bad. Missions you'd done in the past decade were amusing, even in your standards.

And, upon thinking of the nostalgia, you let the corner of your lips crinkle, because no-one is there to see you—no-one is there to judge you, observe you.

(_like the bird locked in a cage, the bird that you are_)

You can feel her presence, her warmth and happiness is radiating all around the small area and you can't help but savour it.

(_and you think—if I'm the bird, locked in the unbreakable cage…_)

You close your eyes and picture her chestnut orbs, filled with compassion and earnest; her radiant peach coloured face; her elegant, slim features; her fluid and graceful movements, as she trained...

(_a dancer—she dances with death, she dances with the kunai and katana_)

…her warm, saccharine-sweet, earnest voice—she speaks as though she was once an angel.

"Ohayou, Neji!" Her chocolate-warm, resonate voice sounds in your ear and echoes in your mind—you're savouring the sound of her voice.

Slowly, you open your eyes, and gaze at her. The corners of her lips are crinkled, carefree and contented; her hazelnut orbs are radiating with happiness and sheer enthusiasm. Her face and skin is glowing—it's as though there is an ethereal glow surrounding her and only you are captivated by it.

You're mesmerised, but you mask it—you give her a slow nod in acknowledgement, letting your gaze remain nonchalant and indifferent.

"Should we go now? Knowing Lee, he will probably start acting like an utter love-stricken idiot if he sees Sakura-san," She sighs exasperatedly, shaking her head upon remembrance of his antics.

"Aa." You murmur, and nod in agreement with her, "You're probably correct."

You step away from the shade of the tree and walk out towards her. A pain almost immediately surges into your leg—your face scrunches up. Your leg limps slightly and she's at your side at once.

"Are you alright? Does your leg still hurt?" Her voice is laced with worry, concern, _compassion_—for a fleeting moment, you wonder how she came to care and worry about such a person as yourself.

(_Some sort of emotion courses through your body—an emotion you're unfamiliar with_)

"It's fine. I can walk," You reassure her, but as you try to lift your leg, your face scrunches up and your fists are clenched at your sides. You let out a soft, hardly audible grunt, frustrated because you cannot walk on your own.

(_and for this, you are _weak)

Your eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and frustration,

(_weak weak weak weak weak_)

You try to lift a leg, but you are stopped.

(_weak weak weak_—)

"Stop, Neji," Her voice is stern, as you freeze to a standstill when her hand squeezes your own, "You're only straining yourself."

Her hand is strangely calloused, you muse—and for some strange, alien reason, it felt so right to hold her hand.

(_the warmth is comforting, nuzzling your senses_)

You look away, embarrassed and regret your actions. Local passer-bys glance at you and her.

(_and once again, you are a manifestation of the bird in the cage, the beautiful bird, existing only for entertainment and performance_)

"Tenten," You try, but you know you will lose. Because Tenten was always stubborn, like the burning fire of Konoha, burning endlessly.

She squeezes your palm, soft and reassuring, letting out a muted sigh. Her mahogany bangs are blown aback by the wind, as the skirt to her cheongsam dress is blown slightly by the cool breeze.

Slowly, she detaches her hand from yours, the warmth gradually draining from your body.

"Hai." Instead, she holds her supple arm out, gesturing for you to come closer, and you realise you have no other choice.

(_Suck it up, your mind says_)

You stop in your subtle protests and reluctantly lend her your arm. A slim arm creeps on your back steadily, before resting on your shoulders. Your muscle and shoulder tautens from her light, airy touch for a few, fleeting seconds.

But, somehow, you find comfort, satisfaction, contentment in her hold. And soon you find yourself leaning into her hold.

(_and you think—if I'm the bird, locked in the unbreakable cage…_)

"Let's go."

(_…then you must be my saviour, with the key to this damned cage…_)

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**ii.** Tuesday  
_all that we needed_

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* * *

The sky was shining a radiant deep, rich blue—the azure veil of the day contrasted surprisingly well with the beaming gold glow of the sun. The glare of the sun is light, soft—the breeze is lulling, soft, calming. 

Dark soft strands of mahogany were blown slightly aback by the chilling, soft breeze, as Hyuuga Neji stepped briskly into the Hyuuga Manor, his white clock billowing behind him from the cool breeze. He took long steps, posture upright and proper, prim.

His silver orbs are set before him, hard and accurate, almost like the eyes of a hawk, ready to pounce on its prey.

He strode into the entrance hallway, brisk and quick, before stopping sharply. He bent down and took off his sandals, placing them by a mat, before walking into the main room at that same, brisk pace.

His steps were slender, poised and elegant, as he took long strides, each stride performed gracefully and flowing. Everything about him was elegant, smooth, graceful.

His arms and legs moved with fluid, until he stopped when his ears perked up. He heard the sounds of female grunting, as well as the sound of limbs meeting each other, tough and head-on—metal, kunai, clanging together, colliding in an unruly manner.

He walked towards the courtyard, before stopping before the doorway. He watched in partial curiosity, as his younger cousin, Hanabi, fought with his uncle, Hiashi.

Kunai clutched tightly in her frail hand, she gritted her teeth and lunged at him, to which he dodged her kunai, only the fabric of his clock receiving a minor scratch from the kunai. She lunged at him again, but completely missed—Hiashi's silver eyes glittered in callous and ruthlessness, as he aimed his two fingers at her wrist.

The pressure of the hit to her wrist must've been painful, as she screeched in pain and the kunai fell easefully from her grip. From reflex, her other hand flew to the damaged wrist, massaging the skin. Hiashi's eyes narrowed strictly, as his leg flew out from behind Hanabi—her eyes widened, as his leg rammed into her slender, short leg. A hoarse scream left her lips, as her knees buckled from the pressure of the hit.

Neji could only watch, as Hanabi fell to the ground, his lips set into a grim line.

(_he did pity the poor girl, but he couldn't do anything to help her—after all, she was the "real" heiress of the Hyuuga clan, in the eyes of Hiashi—and he was willing to train her until her limit_)

Her leg throbbed with pain, the pain coursing through her body, as she bit her lip to stifle any groans or whimpers. Her eyebrows were furrowed in frustration--she wouldn't be weak. She refused to be weak, or appear weak.

Hiashi's figure loomed over her, menacingly and intimidating.

"Never let your guard down. Even if you are wounded, you must never let your guard down and nurse your wounds—otherwise, you will be hit ten times worse than any you've felt," Hiashi hissed to her, as she stifled a whimper by biting her lip. He turned on his heel sharply, leaving her on the ground, "Rest. We will train later."

"H-Hai," She mumbled softly, her face contorted and scrunched up from the pain and anger from being ignored.

(_when she was older, stronger, she'd be the one with her back turned on him_)

Hiashi strode towards Neji, his clock wafting behind him, as he took long steps, proud and dignified. His posture, too, was upright, prim and proper, pristine and perfect, just as Neji's was.

Hiashi stops before Neji, the two of them gazing at each other with an indifferent, cool expression their face.

"Hiashi-sama," Neji said, acknowledging his uncle, even though he didn't want to.

(_there were many things Neji was forced to do that he didn't want to do of his own accordance_)

"Neji," Hiashi replied, acknowledging Neji in return with a nod of the head. His lips were set into a grim line, at he gazed at Neji, curious but indifferent, "What brings you here?"

"Hiashi-same, there is something I wish to tell you," Neji replied, his voice void of emotions, "Please come with me."

Hiashi nodded in confirmation, as the two of them wordlessly walked out of the courtyard, leaving Hanabi on her own. They strolled together, slow, steady steps taken in unison, both equally poised and elegant, smooth and graceful.

The two of them sauntered side by side, gracefully, as they entered another courtyard.

"Hiashi-sama," Neji began, as they continued to walk, "I have thought about this…idea for a long period of time, but, I was in…apprehension, about the whole utter thought of it."

"But now," Neji continued, eyes set straight, "I am sure about the whole idea and adamant that this idea will work out to success and to my liking."

"What is this idea?" Hiashi asked, facial expressions indifferent, though his actual thoughts and feelings betrayed his façade. Truth be told, he was rather curious about Neji's idea.

"…I plan on proposing to a friend of mine," Neji paused in his track of footsteps, while Hiashi completely froze in his tracks. Hiashi's slim eyebrows were raised in slight shock.

(_of all the thoughts that had gone through his mind, he didn't think that Neji would've wished to propose to someone_)

An awkward silence reigned for a few seconds, as the two of them stood still in their position.

"This friend…" Hiashi finally spoke up, his face expression indifferent and aloof, as he diverted his gaze to face Neji, "Is this friend of yours that brown haired kunoichi?"

(_an image of Tenten appears in Neji's mind, though his face is expressionless_)

"…Yes." Neji replies flatly, as Hiashi continued to stare at him, "I haven't proposed yet—I wanted to determine whether I would have your approval or not."

Neji remained silent, waiting patiently for Hiashi to state his opinion.

(_inwardly, Neji was begging, begging that Hiashi would say yes__—__he really did want to marry Tenten_)

"…You have my approval, Neji," Hiashi stated flatly, "I must return to train Hanabi." And with that, Hiashi turned on his heel sharply, striding back to the other courtyard.

Meanwhile, Neji was left on his own, to figure out how he should tell Tenten of this—but even then, his lips were stretched into an uneasy smile.

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**iii.** Wednesday  
_the sky is weeping and they don't know why_

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* * *

Today wasn't what they thought it would be. 

Today was the first day of their mission—they were leaving. But the weather wasn't the type you would've expected for when someone would leave on a mission.

The sky was dark—clouded with wisps of ash grey. The sun was hidden, only appearing as a white light, glimmering weakly behind the clouds.

Droplets of rain water dripped off their hoods—a droplet landed onto Tenten's nose. Her eyebrows were furrowed in frustration, as she quickly wiped away the droplet from her nose.

"This mission won't be the same without you, Gai-sensei!" Lee exclaimed, his wide, animated eyes welling up with tears—Tenten and Neji couldn't help but sigh exasperatedly.

(_and here we go again…! They mumble softly in unison_)

"Lee, I told you to call me Gai-_senpai_ from now on—after all, as much as I hate to say this, you have lost some of your youth!" Lee looked horrified when Gai told him—Gai panicked and quickly added, "B-But, you have blossomed into a powerful, albeit still youthful jounin! Be proud and be an adult—then your youth will return to you gradually!"

"Oh, Gai-senpai!" Lee yelled dramatically, tears glimmering in his wide eyes.

"Lee!" Gai yelled back, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He held his arms out to Lee.

"Gai-senpai!" Lee yelled for the last time, and with that, he ran into Gai's arms, wrapping his arms around Gai, as Gai did the same.

(_and even if the moment itself was comical, to Lee, it meant the whole world to him_)

Neji and Tenten could only cringe at the…intensity of the sight before them.

"Gai-sensei….!" Lee's eccentric voice was muffled by Gai's shoulder—Gai could only sigh overdramatically and pat Lee on the head.

Neji quickly cleared his throat, causing Lee and Gai to look at him.

"Now that that's over, could we leave sometime soon?"

Tenten stifled her sniggering when she saw the shocked expression of Lee.

(honestly_…(!), she thought, as he continued to sob silently_)

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**iiii.** Thursday  
_the warmth was replaced with an ice cold touch_

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* * *

They are on the second day of their mission. Just the second day. 

The three of them were on their way back home to Konoha after a successful mission, when they had been ambushed. They had been ambushed by the relatives of the person they were assigned to kill.

Lee and Neji had managed to defend themselves well, but Tenten…

…Tenten was severely wounded in the abdomen and the right side of her body—it wasn't a pretty sight.

Blood continuously gushed out of her chest, drenching her once crisp white shirt in metallic crimson. Kunai, shuriken and senbon stick out of her right arm and leg at odd angles, creating fresh wounds by each passing moment. The pungent fume of metallic copper lingers in the humid air, the clammy breeze choking and suffocating.

Her face is contorted, twisted in pain, but she makes no sounds of pain. She grits her teeth and smiles weakly, reassuringly at Lee and Neji.

Blood drips onto the tip of her slim nose from a few of silky strands of mahogany, tickling the tip of nose. The blood is drying onto her flesh and tickling her skin, but she pays it no heed.

A lump is formed in Lee's throat, but he swallows in a weak attempt to stop himself from breaking down.

(_a shinobi is not to show their emotions at any point during a mission, his mind chants_)

Lee stands up immediately, to the shock of Tenten and Neji. The two of them glance at him in surprise, as he stares down at them, lips set into a grim line, before contorting into a weak grin. He holds up a thumb.

"Tenten, stay strong!" Lee yells, eyes filled with determination and vigour, "Let the fire of Konoha within you burn strong and stubbornly!"

The corners of Tenten's eyes crinkle, as her lips are stretched shakily into a weak smile—even at this time, Lee managed to bring patriotism into the scenario. He holds up a thumb at the sight of her weak smile, his lips stretching widely.

(_but, even if he tries to smile reassuringly, he can't stop that voice within him__—__that voice filled with anxiety and worry_)

"Wait for me, Tenten, Neji!" Lee yells strongly once more, still in his 'nice-guy' pose, before jumping onto another tree.

(_as he jumps, he knows that nice guy pose won't help this time__—__it didn't help when Naruto-kun tried to bring Sasuke back, it won't work now_)

Within seconds, his figure is already disappearing, melding with the brown of the trees, the auburn and emerald green of the autumn leaves.

Neji stares silently at Tenten with hard, silver eyes—she smiles weakly. Even if his eyes always held an icy, bitter gaze, she adored them, partially for their and partially for the feeling of familiarity and nostalgia that was partnered with it.

(_the nostalgia fills her body with warmth and happiness_)

He gazes deeply into her warm chocolate brown orbs.

(_and he can't help but wonder, how she always managed to maintain the warmth within her chestnut orbs_)

The anxiety and sorrow of the moment is overwhelming his once hardened heart. His barriers are being brought down, but his barriers, his restrictions and inhibitions could've been diminished another way. Not this way.

He can't bear to watch her die away, right before his eyes, but he can't help it. He has to—for this is the sick part of destiny he had to embrace.

(_and even though Naruto may have told he could surpass his destiny, and he agreed to this rule, a part of him knew that he could never overcome his destiny. Others could've, but he couldn't_)

"Ne…ji…" Tenten murmurs, the tight grip she once had on his calloused, warm hand waning—her strength is waning.

The once strong, exuberant warmth she held, the warmth that he desired to feel, that warmth he always savoured when he came in contact, that warmth was diminishing slowly and steadily, reducing to a bitter icy cold.

(_the icy cold touch of the dead_)

"Tenten," He squeezes the calloused palm of her hand reassuringly, hardened from vigorous training and sheer strength.

"…Neji…you know…_I_ know…I-I won't…I won't make it," She says weakly, softly, her lips set into a grim line. Her chestnut orbs are filled with melancholy and regret.

(_regret that they never could've been together__—__that she never could've shown him just how much he meant to her__—__that she couldn't tell him how strongly she felt_)

His silver orbs are glittering with the emotions, with regret, melancholy and heartache. He wished he could reassure her and tell her that she wasn't going to die; that she was going to live, that they could have a chance together, a second chance at life, together.

But he couldn't.

(_because even though he wanted to deny this, even though he wanted her to live, he knew that his wishes were against the will of god, against destiny. And he knew he would never win against destiny_)

His heart ached with pain, as he lifted a shaky hand towards her slim, beautifully-chiseled face. He placed his calloused, shaky palm against her face—the cool feeling of her face sent shivers surging through his palm.

Her eyes had widened and for a fleeting moment Tenten though her heart had stopped. But her eyes softened at him, chestnut orbs glittering with compassion, and her silent proclamation of her love.

He brushed away the strands of mahogany dipped in metallic crimson. Blood was smudged onto her cheek from feeling the touch of his finger.

(_the single touch felt like she was right at heaven's gate, knocking on God's door_)

He stared at her tenderly, silently and softly, as the two remained there in their positions. Neji's silver gaze lingered on Tenten's chestnut orbs, locking with her eyes.

(_her chestnut brown orbs were possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen at that exact moment in time__—__his silver eyes were always the most beautiful she had ever laid her eyes on_)

He gazes into her orbs for long period of time, for seconds, minutes, hours. He just stares into her eyes.

(_her glassy chestnut brown eyes__—__ethereal and beautiful_)

He stops staring into her eyes and looks at her slim, slender face. Her face was drained of all colour, the only colour being the crimson liquid dried onto the soft flesh of her face. Her eyes are deadly pale, he realizes.

He raises a hand to touch her face—all signs of warmth have left her face, only a cool, icy cold feeling lingering in his digits.

He realizes she is dead, and the smell of metallic copper lingers in the air.

* * *

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**v.** Friday  
_because one day she is here…_

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* * *

It was the day of Tenten's funeral. It wasn't the way it usually was on the day of a funeral—it wasn't pouring with droplets of rain, the sky wasn't clouded with ash grey wisps of clouds. The sky wasn't weeping like it should be. 

(_because Tenten deserved so much more than this__—_)

It was a terribly, painfully un-cliché day—the weather was mellow, calm—the breeze was mild and the strength of the gales had waned drastically. The sun's glare was mild, soft, though it's radiance and glow hadn't diminished, not one bit—the gold of the sun contrasted with the soft blue of the sky. Wisps of white drifted by in the evenly clouded veil of soft blue.

Men and women of all ages stood, face expressions solemn and pensive, lips set into a grim line. All were dressed in dark, melancholic black—

(_the colour of depression__—__the colour of the night__—__plain, pensive, dark_)

—their sympathetic, warm-hearted gazes lingered upon the coffin.

(_because even though they knew virtually nothing about the girl, their hearts still went out to the girl and her friends_)

Out of the crowd of the normal townsfolk, familiar shinobi and kunoichi stuck out from the crowd. Sakura, Naruto, Sai, Yamato and Kakashi stood close by each other, staring at the coffin, gazes pensive and melancholic. Shino, Kiba and Kurenai stood together—Ino, Chouji and Shikamaru stood in a group. They were all lined up in their teams.

The main team stood the closest to coffin—Neji, Gai and Lee.

Lee's wide eyes were cast into unnatural thin slits, his forlorn gaze lingering on the ground. He couldn't bear to even stare into the endless pitch black of the coffin.

(_because the memories and feelings of nostalgia would start rushing in__—__and that single image of when her lips would stretch into a carefree smile would appear in his mind_)

Gai's lamenting gaze was downcast, his eyelashes creating a dark shadow over his high cheeks.

(_and that's when the thoughts came rushing into his mind__—__what if he had persuaded Tsunade to let him go on the mission with them? What if he had been allowed? Would he have protected Tenten, so that she would be standing before them, radiant and glowing, in place lying still and silent, pale and lifeless, in that pitch black coffin?_)

Gai's fists unconsciously clenched—he could've been able to protect her. He would've been able to protect her. But Tsunade didn't let him go on the mission.

(_and he wonders__—__does she think these same thoughts? Does she feel the power of guilt, ten times stronger and harsher than he feels it?_)

Blond tresses, tied into two ponytails, billowed in the wind—Tsunade stood by the coffin, dressed in a pitch black dress. The cotton material of the dress was still fresh, she had noted when she first clutched the dress in her digits in the morning.

Her amber gaze was downcast to the pitch black of the coffin, pensive and regretful. Her long, dark eyelashes created a shadow over her cheeks—her stare lingered upon the coffin, as she thought.

(_her mind was telling that her that this was in God's hands, not her own, that she wouldn't have been able to stop Tenten's death, even if she tried__—__but her heart told her otherwise. Her heart told her she could've stopped this death__—__if only she had let Gai go on the mission__—__he could've, no, would've protected her_)

Her teeth gritted, though she masked this, skilful and adept. Though these thoughts lingered in her mind, she knew very well that at the end of the day, this death was unanticipated. And that there was nothing she could do.

(_and this very feeling frustrated her__—__she hated the feeling of not being able to do anything. She was one of the three sannin; a great medic; a hard-talking, equally beautiful woman__—__hell, she had inhumane strength__—__yet even though she possessed these skills, she wasn't capable of stopping this death from happening__—__that was the worst feeling she had ever felt_)

And, amidst all the townsfolk, kunoichi and shinobi, Neji still managed to stand out from the crowd.

Orbs of pearl magnolia stared straight ahead, cut into thin slits, as he stared intensely at the coffin. Dark, mahogany tresses billowed in the mild breeze—his looks were breathtaking. Even on this tragic day, he still managed to look ethereal, effortlessly and easefully.

His skin was pale and luminous, clean and healthy. But, even if his skin looked clean and fresh, he would never feel clean again—the stains of crimson upon his hands, legs, clothes, face; her glassy, hazelnut orbs, her weak smile—he would never forget it.

(_because ever since she had died in his arms, he wasn't the same_)

His fists clenched half-consciously—he couldn't save her. He couldn't save the one person who was most precious to him—the one person he loved the most.

That was the irony of it all—he could save a regular townsfolk being attacked; he could save a stranger from being robbed—but the one person he wanted to protect, the one person he could stare at endlessly, the one person he would choose to spend his last hours with, the one person who was the world to him, the apple of his eye—that person was the one person he couldn't save.

It was ever-so-ironic—painfully ironic.

(_it literally was painful__—__because everytime the thought entered his mind, his heart would clench, as though a tough hand had encompassed it and was squeezing it, harsh and stubborn, right to the point he was certain it would burst_)

The sound of birds chirping made his ears perk up—his gaze left the ground, pearl magnolia staring up into the sky. Birds soared deep into the sky, melding into the background. It was the picture of happiness. And that's what caught him most—

—that the day didn't feel right. It was a mellow, happy day--birds chirping, chanting their incoherent lullaby, lulling the senses and tension to relaxation and asphyxiation; the sun's glare was soft and mellow, beaming brightly, gold fading into the soft blue veil of the day.

It wasn't the right type of day for a funeral—that sort of day was meant to be dark, miserable. It was meant to be raining—the sky was meant to be grey. People were meant to be weeping for Tenten, acknowledging her as something more than a prized kunoichi of Konoha, as a weapon of death. She deserved more than this.

Yet no one, not a single person shed a tear for Tenten—no one related to Tenten stood there, on that day. All whom stood were merely strangers—if it weren't for the fact that Tenten was a kunoichi, a soldier of Konoha, then they wouldn't be standing around, wasting their time by turning such a happy day to a miserable one.

And that's what angered Neji most.

Because Tenten deserved so much more than this—all her life, she had overexerted herself. But now, her exertions had gone completely unnoticed by the whole of the world…

…and that wasn't the worst part of it.

(_for a fleeting moment, a look of true, sheer pain flickered in his eyes_)

His fingers were balled into fists, clutched tightly by his digits.

(_because that was what he felt__—_

—_true, sheer pain…_)

He never got to tell her how much she meant to him, how much her single presence meant to him. He never got to propose to her. But most importantly—

(_…pain that would never leave him…he closed his eyes__—__her weak smile, the blood marring her radiant features, her glassy, hot chocolate-warm eyes__—__she was already haunting his mind_)

—he never told her how much he had grown to treasure and cherish her; how much he had grown to love her…

* * *

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…_and the next she is there…_

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**F****ini**

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**A/N:**** Ugh…I FINALLY FINISHED THIS!**

**(I was typing different sections of it during the last week xDD)**

**And yes, I KNOW, it isn't a complete week—it's only 5. But…I felt like typing five days!**

**Oh yeah—by the way, this is my first time of writing NejiTen as the main couple and it's my first fanfic where there's virtually no sign or hints of SasuSaku. Sooo…don't be surprised if the characters are OOC or if the angst is OTT or whatnot.**

**(and, on a random note, this is the longest thing I've ever written—14 FRIGGIN PAGES!)**

…**Uhm. Y****eah. ANYWAYS, please review!**


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